Pat Rollins: A sweet hunting spot for gobblers

Wednesday

Apr 17, 2013 at 3:15 AM

While I was fueling my truck at the gas station the other day my buddy Mike pulled in and asked if I’d been scouting for gobblers recently. I explained that I’d been sidelined for several weeks and have been playing catch up for the last couple weeks. He told me that he was going out in the morning and could use my help. Well, the next thing I knew we were planning a turkey scouting trip at daybreak the following morning.

“It’s suppose to get nasty tonight, but I think we’ll be alright by morning,” he said.

In the morning as I sipped my morning coffee ,I flicked the outside light on to discover a white coating of snow and sleet covering everything. Moments later the phone rang.

“Do you have your snow camo handy?” my buddy asked with a chuckle. “I mean, have you looked outside?”“I’ll dig out the white camo and put a handful of turkey calls and spotting scope in my pack before I leave to meet you,” I replied.

“You know where to meet me?” he asked.

I assured him I did.

I quickly dressed and filled my thermos with hot coffee and headed out the door. When I rounded the turn near my destination, I saw the tail lights of Mike’s truck.

I pulled in behind him and when I stepped from the truck, I spotted his silhouette standing on the edge of the field. As I approached, he made a loud call on an owl hooter. Immediately there was a gobble coming from the far end of the huge field.

“There’s one roosting in one of those big pine trees on the side of that ridge,” he revealed. “I’ve been seeing several birds in this field for couple weeks now. They’re coming out right after they leave the roost.”

“What do you say we slowly make our way up the side of the field and settle in near the back side,” I suggested.

Mike nodded as two Toms let out a gobble at the same time.The ice made a loud crunch under our feet as we walked in the leaves along the wood line just as the first rays of daylight began to light up the eastern sky. Ten minutes later, we were nestled in behind a stonewall a couple hundred yards from where we hoped the birds would enter the field.The gobblers sounded off several more times before sunrise. Then, we figure as soon as they glided down from their roosts in the big pines, they clammed up quick.

“These guys have played this game before,” Mike said as we stained to hear them gobble.

We sat there for nearly a half hour. Then while I was panning the area with the spotting scope, I saw something black moving in the hardwoods near the field. Moments later, five hens and a tom popped into the field.

“Check it out!” I whispered as I squeezed Mike’s shoulder. “He’s got a wicked long thick beard.”

We watched the hens scratch at the ground as the gobbler slowly walked around them, strutting occasionally. Even when Mike tried to get him to respond to his call, the tom remained silent.

We took turns watching that big tom through the spotting scope for several minutes when I noticed several more turkeys enter the field. It looked like there may be three more toms in that group. Then as soon as Mike made a loud yelp on the big boat paddle, two of them let out a big gobble and began to strut.

“See those tail feathers?” I asked. “The one on the left is definitely a jake.”

“Maybe,” Mike replied. “But the one on the right is as big as that other one. I think it might be even bigger.”

We watched the three toms for about 40 minutes before the whole bunch retreated back into the woods and disappeared. It was encouraging however. In fact, Mike wanted to concentrate our scouting efforts on these birds. We have permission to hunt here and there are two mature long beards here for the taking.

“Let’s get together again,” I suggested. “We need to figure out how we can get in there without being detected so we can set up on them. We’ve still got plenty of time before the season opens.”